


be brave, gryffindor

by markli



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mild Language, Slytherin Nakamoto Yuta, gryffindor winwin, sicheng says 'fuck' a lot, yuta does too sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markli/pseuds/markli
Summary: Sicheng was Chinese. He couldn’t speak anything akin to the light, syllabic words that rolled one after another in a rapid staccato stream, albeit rather aggressively, from the Howler. Never in his entire life had he imagined that he would be yelled at so relentlessly in front of the entire student body, for an entire fucking week.In Japanese.He really didn’t know what he had done to warrant such a violent form of hate from Nakamoto Yuta.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 39
Kudos: 248





	be brave, gryffindor

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first work ever from my discarded pile of half-started drafts that I managed to (barely) finish. 
> 
> for story purposes, the '95 line are seventh years, the '97s are sixth years, and the other years should match up accordingly from there. I hope you enjoy :D

Steak and kidney pie. A marvelous combination of flakey, buttery goodness that was the golden baked crust and the well-marinated steak hidden within with just the right amount of seasoning and gravy that made the entire dish delectable beyond comparison. Sicheng could probably say that it was his favorite dish, although he wasn’t quite sure why they had started appearing on the Gryffindor table for breakfast and lunch in addition to their regular debut on the polished oak surfaces when dinnertime struck.

“Staring down your pie isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

Sicheng stabbed a piece of brisket with more aggression than the beef deserved, spearing the metal straight through to the other side. A resounding _screech_ tore through his eardrums when the fork scraped against his plate. 

“Shut up, Jung.”

He turned to glare miserably at his friend, whose attention had shifted from Sicheng back to the raftered ceiling of the Great Hall. With a shit-eating grin ( _curse_ those dimpled cheeks, they had been wasted on a pest like Jung Jaehyun), he pointed up. 

“Here they are,” Jaehyun said gleefully. Sicheng didn’t need to look up to know what was about to come. 

He slumped down in his seat as the sounds of soft hoots and rustling wings gradually filled the hall. The students at the Gryffindor table were eagerly picking up their creamy white envelopes sent from home, a few cradling parcels carefully wrapped in thick swathes of brown parchment and tied off into tight bows with twine. The muted chatter that defined the Hogwarts student body in the unholy hours of the morning rose to a more animated buzz in the presence of mail sent from homes far away. 

A classmate across from them turned to the boy beside her but froze in horror when her eyes locked upon Sicheng. 

She looked at Sicheng. Then up at the owls still flocking into the Great Hall. 

She looked back at Sicheng again. 

The girl exclaimed loudly, “Oh no, it’s _you_.” She then proceeded to grab the arm of her friend which she shook frantically, whispering and gesturing across the table. 

“It’s me,” Sicheng said in resignation. He gave her an apologetic bob of his head. 

Jaehyun, who had noticed her actions and was currently staring at them in amusement, gave the pair a perky smile that grew even wider when they started shoving all their belongings into their bookbags. In record time, they hauled themselves over the long bench and scrambled away from the table. 

The commotion had attracted the attention of other red-and-gold clad students around them, and now several more people were engaged in the frantic exodus that had become a routine for the Gryffindors. 

Just then a grey Horned Owl barreled into the table, narrowly avoiding a platter of buttered toast. It shook its feathers and trained its yellow gaze on Sicheng, who shriveled in his seat at the sight of the familiar envelope clenched in its beak. 

It hopped a step towards him. Sicheng clutched Jaehyun’s arm and leaned away, almost toppling off the bench entirely. 

With an unimpressed hoot, it dropped the letter and flew off but not before stealing a chunk of chicken bread from an abandoned plate.

By now, the entire Gryffindor table was staring at Sicheng. Or more precisely, the letter sitting on Sicheng’s untouched beef and kidney pie. Its edges were flecked with a bit of gravy, but the glossy red color was unmistakable.

“Are you going to open it?" Jaehyun slung his arm around Sicheng’s neck. "Fifty Galleons that it’ll blow up in ten.”

A scene of strangling himself with Jaehyun’s arm just to end his own misery flitted through Sicheng’s head. Before he could contemplate that path further, however, he was jolted out of his thoughts by the rising voices of a few panicked students within exploding range. Gritting his teeth, Sicheng reached over and plucked the letter out of his pie. 

He opened it. 

The Great Hall’s chatter hushed when the Howler opened its papery mouth and started bellowing so loudly the polished doors of the hall shook. 

“He’s looking at you again,” Jaehyun yelled in his ear, brandishing his fingers in the direction of another table.

Sicheng could do nothing but follow the path of Jaehyun's pointer finger all the way across the hall to a certain Slytherin. 

Said Slytherin was staring at Sicheng unblinkingly, chin propped in his hands. If Sicheng hadn’t spent years studying the boundaries of wizarding magic, he was positive that the other boy could have bored a hole through Sicheng’s skull with such intensity. 

The Howler was blasting through the hall louder and louder, echoing off every surface. 

_Fuck it_ , Sicheng thought, and glared right back. It wasn’t like he could understand what was being yelled at him from the enchanted letter anyway. 

The problem was, Sicheng was Chinese. He couldn’t speak anything akin to the light, syllabic words that rolled one after another in a rapid staccato stream, albeit rather aggressively, from the Howler. Never in his entire life had he imagined that he would be yelled at so relentlessly in front of the entire student body, for an entire fucking _week._

In _Japanese_. 

He really didn’t know what he had done to warrant such a violent form of hate from Nakamoto Yuta. 

If anyone had asked before the Howler Fiasco (Jaehyun had named it such on the third day), Sicheng would have said that he and Yuta were on good terms with one another. He would have even said that they were pretty close friends. Or at least before Yuta’s grey owl had become the bane of Sicheng’s existence, an ominous presence always bearing the stupid red letters. 

Last year before his O.W.Ls, Yuta had helped Sicheng in Defense Against the Dark Arts and quite literally saved his ass from failure. In the blunt words of Professor Oh, the Gryffindor was an absolute lost cause. He had recruited Yuta to bring Sicheng’s skills up after class hours, promising that no one, not even someone as unambitious (he had been on the brink of saying wimpish) as Sicheng, could possibly fail after being tutored by the best student he had ever had in his years of teaching DADA. 

Although it had taken him a while, Sicheng had even learned to enjoy casting proper jinxes and defensive spells. Somehow Yuta had managed to coax Sicheng out of the indescribable shell of timidness he had when it came to offensive magic. 

He had even taught him how to cast a Patronus, which had earned him several bonus points during his practical. 

_That’s it_ , Sicheng mused bleakly. 

Yuta was definitely cursing his meager grade of Exceeds Expectations in Japanese, too kind to shame him in the common tongue. But he had already received eight Howlers, not including the one that was reaching the apex of its crescendo, surely it was more than enough already?

Sicheng squinted at Yuta from across the room, the latter with his gaze still glued to Sicheng’s. 

Was he _smiling_?

Sicheng glared harder. He had avidly avoided Yuta’s gaze the first eight times, but this time he would stand his ground. 

Yuta was the first to break their silent staring contest. 

Those eyes which had been sparkling with something he assumed to be unwavering mirth drifted down from Sicheng’s face to his neck, then to the arm still draped across his shoulder. The brightness in his gaze rapidly faded, and Sicheng felt himself shrinking back even though he wasn’t on the receiving end of the hostile scowl being shot across the room.

Jaehyun let out a nervous chuckle and leaned away from Sicheng.

“Is it just me, or is Nakamoto looking at me with a little murder in his eyes?” 

Sicheng crossed his arms but before he could answer the Howler had burst into flames, sprinkling ashes all over the table. The Gryffindors that still remained breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

Trying to incinerate Sicheng with his eyes was one thing, but why in the world would Yuta glare at Jaehyun? Everyone and their mothers loved Jung Jaehyun, and even if they didn’t, a few seconds with the Gryffindor Beater would reduce even the meanest Slytherin into a puddle of adoration. 

One thing was clear though. 

Yuta could send Sicheng all the Howlers under the sun but if the dimpled boy next to him started receiving them as well, Sicheng would burn the entire Slytherin dorm down with Fiendfyre without so much as a second glance. It was about time for him to do something about the daily Howlers anyway, he was bound to get banned from breakfast if the constant interruptions continued. 

“This ends today,” Sicheng muttered. 

Jaehyun hummed from where he was finishing up the dregs of his pumpkin juice. “What?”

Yuta had already gotten up from the Slytherin table and was strutting out of the hall with his friends. Ignoring Jaehyun’s muffled question, Sicheng shrugged his arm off and leaped up. He made a beeline for the doors but got caught up when a third-year Ravenclaw dropped his bag, causing several apple pasties to spill out from their carefully wrapped napkins. By the time Sicheng reached the hallway, Yuta was nowhere to be seen. 

  
  
  


Throughout the day, Sicheng had been trying to hunt down Yuta to no avail. He swore he had caught a glimpse of his face in the halls several times but as soon as Sicheng pushed his way towards him, the Slytherin mysteriously disappeared into thin air. 

Every. Single. Time. 

Sicheng had even tried approaching Yuta’s friends, but they also seemed to fade into midair when Sicheng got close. He _had_ managed to talk to Taeyong, but the other boy had just blinked at Sicheng unconvincingly and said that he had to go water his Blast-Ended Screwt. Then he had gone to the other Slytherins, but when he went up to Mina Myoui the girl had taken one look at the Gryffindor and burst out into giggles, swerving away from Sicheng as though he had a contagious virus. 

So here Sicheng was, waiting outside the third-floor bathroom with Jaehyun. The pair received several passing glances but Jaehyun simply smiled at them and the students were hurrying away in shy laughter. 

“I don’t understand,” his friend said with his ear pressed against the bathroom door. “Why would he avoid you? He already sends you screaming letters every morning.”

“I _really_ don’t know what I did wrong. Did _you_ do something?”

“Hell no, I barely know him.” A pause. 

“You know, I tried asking Johnny why Nakamoto has a grudge on you and he just started cackling in front of the library and left before I could ask anything else.”

Sicheng let out a little gurgle of despair. “He what? So all his friends are in on it too?”

Jaehyun shrugged, “Probably. Wait, I think he’s coming out.” They sprang back from the door, Sicheng ducking behind the other Gryffindor’s broad back. Jaehyun shot an arm out to grab hold of the boy that had just walked through the bathroom door. 

“Hello Yuto,” he said with a disarming smile. “Fancy catching you here!”

The Ravenclaw boy shrieked and leaped a foot into the air, gaping at him with wide eyes. They waited a few seconds for him to reply out of the courtesy of their kind hearts, but the fifth-year boy just spluttered incoherently in shock. Sicheng winced in pity and tucked himself behind Jaehyun a little more. The two Gryffindors were pretty tall already, but Sicheng wasn’t sure they could safely catch the fifth-year boy if he fainted on the spot. 

After a moment of awkward silence, Jaehyun flashed his blinding white teeth at him and continued, “What a coincidence that we- I mean, I- met you in front of the bathroom! I actually wanted to ask you something.”  
  
Thankfully, Yuto didn’t seem to catch the slip and asked hesitantly, “Yeah?”

“Well, I was wondering if you knew what class Yuta had next? I found his Potions textbook and I want to return it to him.”

The boy seemed to have caught his breath again. “Oh, I can give it to him for you if you want.”

Jaehyun shook his head, his smile widening into an almost frightening grin. “No, I have to return it to him _myself_.”

Yuto blinked at the show of way too many teeth to be considered friendly and almost took a step back before he stared down at the hand that trapped him in place in sheer confusion. “Uh, okay… I think he has History of Magic right now.”

Jaehyun beamed at him and let go immediately, patting him on the shoulder. “Lovely, thanks!” He turned and stepped away from the doorway. 

Sicheng made to trail after his friend but at the sight of the Chinese boy behind Jaehyun, Yuto had blanched even more than he had initially, cursing under his breath in Japanese. He stopped and gave the underclassman a polite smile. Yuto gulped and looked at Sicheng as if he were the Bloody Baron. 

“Have a nice day,” Sicheng offered. 

  
  
  


If Sicheng still didn’t manage to talk to Yuta now, then the Slytherin was some type of disappearing ghost. He had skipped Transfiguration just to hunt him down, for goodness sake. Jaehyun had gone back to class after his extended bathroom break to weave a story of Sicheng coming down with a severe case of indigestion for Professor Byun. 

He had been waiting outside the History of Magic classroom for ten minutes now, and he could see the back of Yuta’s head through the partially opened door. Sicheng jumped when the bells signaled the end of the period and flattened himself against the wall as students started exiting the classroom, chattering excitedly.

Yuta and his friends were the last to leave, the classroom already empty apart from the three seventh years. Before his brain could convince him otherwise, he stepped into the classroom. 

“...fifteen pages on the Giant Wars and we’re not even a month into the school year!” Johnny bemoaned, throwing his bag over his shoulders. 

Yuta guffawed at his friend’s complaint and was about to reply before he caught sight of Sicheng blocking the doorway and stopped cold in his tracks. His friends turned as well and looked slowly from Sicheng to Yuta, then back again. Johnny’s eyebrows shot upward and he opened his mouth to say something before Taeyong jabbed him sharply in the ribs. 

“I need to talk to Yuta.” He blurted without preamble. 

He had never seen anyone move with such haste as Taeyong and Johnny bustled out of the classroom, leaving the two of them alone. 

Yuta was standing there stock-still like a cornered rat. Sicheng could practically see him evaluate his chances of slipping through the door so he squared his shoulders, trying to occupy as much of the door frame as he could. 

“Can I help you with something?” The Japanese boy said hesitantly, red creeping up his neck towards his ears. He caught the telltale glint of several heavy rings adorning his fingers betraying the nervous way he was wringing his hands together. 

Sicheng sucked in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes glued to the stud in Yuta’s earlobe as he did so. 

Yuta didn’t reply, so he peeked over at his face. But to his dismay, the Slytherin’s usually bright expression had crumpled into one of disappointment and utter misery. 

“Oh. I understand, Winko. Then I’ll be on my way-”

“Wait, please let me finish.” He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but he continued, “I know you spent a lot of your own free time just to help me with Defense.”

“I don’t know a single word your letters said but I really thought I was going to fail before you started tutoring me. With your abilities, in magic _and_ in teaching me, I should’ve gotten a whole Outstanding. But there was that one practical with a Boggart and I freaked out because you know that I hate public humiliation, and I didn’t tell you right after the exam but the Patronus Charm you helped me conjure really hauled my ass up from an Acceptable, and an Exceeds Expectations already, well, exceeded my expectation.” 

Yuta interjected in confusion, “Huh, what?”

Sicheng raised a hand. “ _Wait_.”

He exhaled and stepped away from the doorway, “I’m so sorry for taking up so much of your time and not performing to your expectations. I’ve learned my lesson from all those Howlers you’ve been sending, which, by the way, I really appreciate you writing in Japanese so the entire school doesn’t know how embarrassing I am. Everyone already thinks I’m not fit to be in Gryffindor, so I think I can manage Mina and the others snickering every time I pass by.”

Throughout the progression of his rant, Yuta’s face had lifted from dejection to confusion, then to relief. It morphed back into confusion and by the time Sicheng was huffing his lungs out to catch his breath after such a long rant, Yuta was sporting a furiously menacing scowl that could have rivaled the storm clouds that usually blew over Hogwarts during the coldest nights of winter. 

“Who?” Yuta asked with frightening calm. 

Sicheng looked up from where he was slumped against a desk, “What who? Me, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, stepping closer to the other boy as he asked again, “Who thinks you’re not… that you’re not fit to be in Gryffindor?” 

Sicheng shrugged and eyed the Slytherin who was a lot closer in proximity now, so much so that he could track every slope and curve of his defined features. “I don’t know, maybe everyone in this damn castle? But that’s not the point!”

Yuta furrowed his brows together and parted his lips. Sicheng waited for him to speak, but Yuta frowned again, looked at him, and pursed them shut again in a thin line. His face was strangely red again. 

“I’ll send another one tomorrow,” the Japanese boy muttered. With that, he was sweeping out of the room. 

Sicheng’s jaw dropped in disbelief as he stared, dumbstruck, at the retreating figure.

“Another what? Another Howler? Yuta please, I’m fucking Chinese!”

Unfortunately, he was only talking to the clouds of dust left in his wake. 

  
  
  


Jaehyun’s cup of apple juice wobbled dangerously as Sicheng slammed his textbooks down beside it. 

“Did you find him?” He asked cautiously, sliding his cup out of the way before impending disaster befell the scrolls of parchment spread across the surface of the dining table. 

Sicheng nodded curtly, glaring across the hall at the Slytherin table. “Yeah.”

Jaehyun sighed in relief and took a large gulp of juice. “Great! Now we can eat our breakfasts in peace,” he said, patting Sicheng’s shoulder. 

He shook his head and grabbed Jaehyun’s hand. “Actually, can you ask Sungchan to kidnap someone for me?”

Choking on his drink, Jaehyun gasped for breath as Sicheng thumped his back patiently. 

  
  
  


The next morning, Sicheng had already finished breakfast by the time the Great Hall filled with students. He beamed beside a bleary-eyed Jaehyun when two people slid onto the bench beside them. “Good morning Sungchan. And you must be Shotaro!”

Jaehyun’s brother threw them a flyaway ‘ _Yo_ ’ before filling his plate with scrambled eggs. He dug in unceremoniously, leaving the second boy to bow his head in bewildered greeting. Sicheng leaned forward to grab a serving of kidney pie, sliding it into Shotaro’s plate. 

“Thank you,” the Hufflepuff said automatically before doing a double-take at his food. “Woah, we don’t have this at our table!” 

“Is that so? Everyone probably took it all, have some more,” Sicheng replied while heaping more pie onto his plate with a reassuring grin. It probably came off more like a grimace from the way the Japanese boy shrank back, so he continued hurriedly, “I need you to help translate today’s Howler for me.”

Shotaro’s eyes went as wide as saucers and he pointed across the table. “Yuta-senpai’s Howler?”

He nodded and glanced at the Slytherin seventh years who were currently poring over long scrolls of parchment, quills flying at superhuman speeds. “Sungchan said you’re pretty good at translating.”

For some reason, Shotaro had turned green at the mention of the Howlers and was now coughing out bits of kidney pie. Jaehyun leaned over, mouth full of toast. “It should arrive in two minutes, eat fast,” he advised.

Sicheng whistled merrily while Shotaro hastily tried shoving down more of his breakfast. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he finally determined why Yuta kept sending him the Howlers, but at least he wouldn’t be a sitting duck while listening to absolute nonsense being screamed at him again. He didn’t look away when Yuta raised his head up from his last-minute assignment. Strangely, Yuta’s gaze didn’t stay stuck on his face like it usually did. This time, Yuta’s eyes drifted to the side and Sicheng watched him rub his eyes slowly. Then he saw them round in alarm into two large circles almost comically. 

_Now that’s different._

Almost cackling in glee, Sicheng turned his head to see what Yuta was gaping at. He tilted his head when he beheld Shotaro, the little third-year swaddled in his yellow and black scarf and stuffing his face with kidney pie. Yuta had frozen in place and quite frankly looked like he was about to vomit as his eyes darted from Shotaro to the owls drifting in. 

Caught up in his triumphant moment, Sicheng almost got smacked in the head by a large grey wing as Yuta’s owl crashed into the table like it always did. Ignoring the students that started fleeing instinctively, he snatched the letter from his empty plate. 

He waited a few seconds for Shotaro to finish chowing down the last bites of his meal, eyes flickering back to Yuta who had somehow spilled pumpkin juice all over the papers strewn on the table. He was still suspended in the same position as earlier, eyes concerningly blank. Sicheng frowned and hesitated a split second before he ripped open the Howler. 

Almost immediately, the familiar screaming filled the hall. 

“He said hello,” Shotaro said tentatively, about to cover his ears before Sungchan pried his hands away. 

Jaehyun snorted and reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Even I know _konnichiwa_.”

Sicheng hushed his friend with a smack to his shoulder. 

Shotaro glanced at Sicheng and continued,

“ _This is my ninth letter to you and my last. Now I realize that it was wrong of me to send Howlers when I know how you hate things like this. I should be the one apologizing. I wish I had the courage to say this to your face, but something in me malfunctions every time I try to put what I feel for you into words. For that, I am sorry._

_Today, I saw you at breakfast and you looked pretty damn terrible-_ ” Sicheng spluttered indignantly and whipped his head to Yuta, whose forehead had dropped onto the sticky surface of the Gryffindor table. This time it was Jaehyun who silenced him. 

“ _-but unbelievably cute when you glared at me. But when I heard that you wanted to talk to me, I hoped more than I’ve ever hoped for anything in the world that you wouldn't be able to find me. After all, if you don’t speak the words of my inevitable rejection into existence, then I can still pretend that there’s some bit of hope that you’ll magically feel the same way._ ”

Sicheng scratched his head, perplexed. “What rejection?” 

The Jung brothers sported twin expressions of incredulity. Sungchan piped up, “Even I know what’s going on at this point.”

“ _Then when you came into Professor Zhang’s class, I swear I’ve never seen that expression on your face, even when you cast your first Patronus. The look of determination made me so proud, even if it was at the expense of my own dread._ _But then you started speaking and I think I must have fucked up pretty badly. Sicheng, I was so happy when I heard from Professor Oh that you got an E. Even if you had gotten a Troll, I would’ve been proud of you because I’ve seen what you can do during our afternoon sessions last June._ ” 

Sicheng’s lips parted slowly and he let out a soft _oh_ that was drowned out by the Howler. 

“ _When you said that you didn’t belong in Gryffindor, I was ready to tear the castle down brick by brick. Who said that lions have to be all idiotic and brawny like your friend with the pretty face? By the way, I hope he isn’t interested in you because I’m not sure I could win you over against your best friend. Even Yong thinks he’s handsome, and he’s fucking carved by Michaelangelo himself._ ”

“Taeyong-hyung thinks I’m handsome?” Jaehyun’s eyes lit up and it took Shotaro and Sungchan’s combined efforts to clamp their hands over his mouth. 

Sicheng’s heart had stopped dead in his chest. _Win you over._

Shotaro leaned forward nervously, “Are you okay, senpai? You look a little pale.”

He nodded and gestured for the concerned boy to continue. His body had locked in place and even as he tried, he couldn’t make his head turn over to the Slytherin table. 

He wasn’t even sure he was still breathing. 

Shotaro continued without batting an eye, seemingly unsurprised by the contents of the letter. 

_“Anyway. Dong Sicheng... you’re already one of the best Gryffindors I’ve encountered in my seven years at Hogwarts. When we first met, I told you to hex me so I could see your progress but you refused even though I was practically a stranger. It took three weeks of me pestering you, pinching your cheek, and tackling you every chance I had, for you to finally cast a Stupefy at me. You spent hours trying to banish a Boggart and even if you said it was good practice, I heard how you cried in the classroom when you thought I had left.”_

Sicheng let out a hoarse laugh, not even catching the concerned glances from the other three. He put a trembling hand up to his cheek where it felt hot to the touch and finally let out a slow exhale. The words were looping through his mind, which had emptied of everything except Yuta. 

_“The thing is, Gryffindors aren’t just the version of brave you’re thinking of. They’re loyal to the point where they refuse to hex a friend even for practice. They persevere even when they’re a thousand miles away from the line of their comfort zone, and they’re brave enough to admit their insecurities to a nobody Slytherin just to improve themself. Winko? To me, you’re so fucking brave and I will always, always be proud of you.”_

Even the Howler’s volume had become white noise. Yuta, Yuta, _Yuta._ He had noticed all these little things about him, things that Sicheng were thought were weaknesses.

Yuta thought he was _brave_. 

_“That’s all I wanted you to know. I guess by now, I should stop pestering you. Thank you for receiving the past eight letters._ ”

The hall went back to its cacophony, but Sicheng’s ears were still ringing. How had he not noticed what was right in front of him? 

The way Yuta had guided him through spell after spell, exclaiming phrases of gentle encouragement when he succeeded and murmuring ways he could tackle the problem when he failed. The beaming smiles he’d greet Sicheng with when they passed each other and the tight hugs Sicheng was often victim to in the hallways. He hadn’t noticed it, but more often than not, he was subject to the tackling when he had just been hit with some sort of gloom or another. 

Yuta’s anger in the History of Magic classroom. How quickly it had morphed to concern and _protectiveness_. 

Sicheng tripped over himself trying to stand up and multiple arms shot up to steady him. 

But Yuta had somehow disappeared yet again. 

  
  
  


Despite how hard Sicheng looked for Yuta within the Hogwarts grounds, the Slytherin was nowhere to be found. 

He collapsed into a worn maroon couch in the Gryffindor common room, nudging Jaehyun further towards the other end with his toes. 

“I saw him today at dinner but as soon as we made eye contact he ran out,” Sicheng groaned. 

Jaehyun muttered a half-hearted reassurance and continued reading his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. 

“How am I supposed to respond to the letters if I can’t find the guy at all? Are you sure you aren’t allowed to Apparate in Hogwarts-” He shrieked when a weight dropped onto him from behind, nearly tipping over the couch. Jaehyun didn’t even bat an eye when another head popped up from over his shoulder. 

Two pairs of mischievous eyes swiveled to Sicheng. 

“So you like him back?” Jet black hair fell over his eyes as he crammed himself onto the couch between the two sixth-years. 

From Jaehyun’s other side, the other boy wiggled himself in as well. “We might have overheard what Shotaro was saying today.” 

“So do you? Sicheng-ge? Do you?” 

Sicheng wheezed from where he was squished against the armrest. “I can’t breathe.”

Scooting over a little, Guanheng voiced out an unapologetic _oops_. With a mild sigh, Jaehyun had peeled his eyes from his reading assignment. He joined them in staring at Sicheng, who was very preoccupied with plucking stray threads from the couch all of a sudden. 

Yangyang chimed in, “Of course he does! The entire school saw him jump up from the table today. Okay well, Donghyuck from Slytherin thought that was because he was going to punch Yuta in the face but ge had his brooding face on. You know Lee Donghyuck? The one in my year?”

“I think I do like him.”

Yangyang’s tangent on Lee Donghyuck almost drowned out Sicheng’s soft words. The enthusiastic boy stopped in the middle of his sentence and gawked at him. 

“You do?” Jaehyun asked slowly. Sicheng nodded. 

Yangyang pounded the back of the couch. “Then what are you waiting for? Go to him and confess your feelings!”

He shook his head. “How? He wrote _nine_ letters to me and you all heard what he wrote. Nothing I do is going to be enough.”

Guanheng had been watching the exchange closely, a surprisingly considerate matureness in his eyes. “You need to be brave, gege.”

Sicheng looked at the younger boy in confusion, and he continued, “He said so in his letters, right? That he’d be proud of you no matter what? I don’t think he was lying.” 

All of them frowned at the rather cryptic explanation. Jaehyun’s forehead was crinkled in confusion as he shut his textbook. Yangyang was mouthing his friend’s words to himself, trying to connect the nonexistent dots. Sicheng blanked out for a second, staring at Jaehyun’s forehead wrinkles. 

Without warning, he grabbed Guanheng’s arm. “You are an absolute genius.” 

The fourth year’s jaw almost hit the floor as he pointed at himself. “Am I?” Jaehyun and Yangyang were wearing identical frowns of perplexity. 

Sicheng patted his shoulder hastily, jaw set in resolution. “Yeah! Excuse me, I have to do something.” 

He was out of the common room, speeding away through the swinging portrait of the Fat Lady by the time Yangyang asked meekly, “Jaehyun-hyung, did you understand any of that?”

  
  
  


The next morning, Sicheng didn’t glance over once at the Slytherins. He ate his breakfast with a stillness that made Jaehyun do a double-take when he looked over to see the other boy’s eyes flying over a parchment full of words. 

“Do we have a test today?” He asked tentatively.

Sicheng didn’t look up. 

“No.” 

Jaehyun gave him a quizzical once-over. He’d never seen Sicheng cram for anything since the other claimed that his short-term memory was absolutely dismal and it in fact made him forget what he knew. Maybe his friend had lost it after yesterday’s confession. Sicheng continued shoveling mechanical spoonfuls of oatmeal into his mouth.

He commented, “The owls should come anytime now.” It was at these words that Sicheng finally looked away from his parchment, which quivered minutely when it was folded up carefully and then tucked into a set of red-lined robes. 

Sicheng tilted his head back and stared up at the owls. All traces of color had washed away from his face, and his hands trembled from where they were clenching his knees. The Horned Owl (whose name was Bokuto- Yangyang had heard from Donghyuck) with the large yellow eyes didn’t appear, to the relief of several students. 

Jaehyun had thought that the lack of a Howler today would’ve brought Sicheng back to his senses and he looked over, just in time to see his closest friend since childhood clamber onto the oak tabletop, where he stood facing the Slytherin table. 

“Dong Sicheng?” He hissed. The Gryffindors started whispering amongst themselves, staring at Sicheng as though he had grown a second head. Jaehyun grew even more alarmed when he pulled out his wand and pointed it at himself. 

“ _Sonorus_ ,” Sicheng muttered. He cleared his throat once and the sound reverberated across the cavernous room. The entire hall went silent, everyone staring at the boy standing on top of the table. 

Sicheng’s gaze drifted for a while until it settled on a bewildered Slytherin seventh-year. He took a deep breath in and began.

“Hi Yuta. First of all, I think I have to thank you for the kidney pies. I don’t know how you knew they were my favorite but I found out from the house elves that some Slytherin boy had literally begged them to start baking them for every single meal of the day.” 

A few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were peeping over at the Gryffindor table where indeed, multiple kidney pies were still emitting smoke on their gilded trays. Yuta’s face had turned its signature shade of firetruck red. 

“Actually, I think I have to thank you for a lot more than just knowing my favorite food. You said that you were sorry for embarrassing me in front of the entire Hogwarts population but to be honest, I think you helped me overcome that fear. Not just your Howlers, but all the times you’ve been there for me that I wasn’t even aware of. And just… _you_.”

Sicheng was trying his hardest to keep his voice from cracking. His heart was pounding in his ears, and it felt like it would thump straight up from his rib cage, through his throat, and out of his mouth. 

“I’m not sure if I completely misinterpreted your words, but every time you greet me with a smile my heart beats faster. You somehow manage to understand me better than I understand myself, even. You know exactly how to help me become a better version of myself and you’re just so shamelessly _you_ that it knocks my breath away whenever I see you. You’re so brave that when I first met you, I thought you should be the one in Gryffindor. You know, you do have courage, way more than anyone in this room, even if you claim you’re too shy.” 

Shaking his head at Yuta who had opened his mouth to protest, he added,

“I _know_ , Yuta. I’m actually scared shitless right now, but I’m taking a leap of faith. I might not be as eloquent as you were in your letters but I just think it’s right for me to confess as bravely as you have been doing for me the last nine days. This is short. This is badly written on the back of my Arithmancy homework. I'd have better luck trying to write an essay on the accuracy of tea leaf Divination. I honestly don't know if you can pull any actual content that makes sense out of it, but I wanted you to know that I mean every single word I'm saying.”

He suddenly realized the intensity with which people were staring at him, but somehow Sicheng couldn’t find it in himself to shrink back from their eyes. 

“So… consider this a response to your Howlers. It definitely cost a lot less and was probably quieter and less dramatic, but hey, Nakamoto Yuta? I like you a lot.”

“That’s all I had planned, um, enjoy your breakfast everyone.”

Sicheng’s mouth was wholly dry when he waved his wand to undo the voice-amplifying Charm. Jaehyun helped him off the table, jaw about to fall off its hinges as he patted his friend’s arm supportively nonetheless. Across from him, Hendery and Yangyang were grinning so widely Sicheng was afraid their skin would crack. The Hall had broken out into whoops and general loudness, the Gryffindors looking especially fond as they broke out into conversations amongst themselves. To his surprise, he didn’t feel any judgemental stares or humiliating comments being thrown at him. 

He didn’t dare look over at the Slytherin table. 

Jaehyun slapped his back in disbelief. “You _did_ _that_ ,” he said slowly. “Is my friend Sicheng still in there?”

Sicheng stared back at him with equal incredulity, “I just _did that_. In front of every single person in Hogwarts.”

Jaehyun flailed his hand, about to unleash his excitement out on Sicheng’s poor back again but he was abruptly cut short as he disappeared from the bench entirely. Sicheng whipped around to see Taeyong and Johnny bodily hauling Jaehyun away from the table. 

A tap on his shoulder made him turn to the other side.

His radiant smile almost blinding in the morning sun, Yuta slid onto the bench. 

“I like you a lot too.” 

From the teachers' table up at the front, Professor Oh grudgingly slid Professor Byun a sack of coins. 

  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> AAHHH. I'm trying not to look at the mess I wrote but if you liked this story, please feel free to comment anything and everything! I really don't know if the story was okay with my shabby writing style, so if it was I might work on some of my other ideas for other ships?
> 
> gryffindor winwin was something inspired by hendery's 'be brave' bracelet that he gave winwin for christmas. it really resonated (hehe) with me and I just had to add it into the story. 
> 
> edited 01-18-2021 (formatting)!
> 
> thank you for reaching the end <3


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